Light
by Lukeprism
Summary: Lucas learns about the origins of his name.


**A/N: A bit weaker than my other stuff, but here's another random drabble nonetheless.**

—**s—t—a—r—t—f—i—c—t—i—o—n—**

Lucas shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time that night, eyes wide yet virtually sightless.

He was a whole six years old now, but he was still haunted by his innate fear of the dark. And while he knew it was silly and unfounded, he couldn't help it. There was just something inexplicably _off_ about the darkness, and Lucas hated it for making him feel so helpless. His brother had never been afraid of the dark—Claus wasn't afraid of _anything_—but he had still taken to holding Lucas close during the night, to help keep the blonde's fear at bay. Now that they were "big boys," Claus had become exasperated with Lucas' fear and insisted he conquer it himself, much to the younger twin's dismay.

So here Lucas lay, as close to Claus as the redhead had allowed, unable to sleep. The bedsheets seemed to be choking him, warming him to the point of sweating. Every little noise he heard or thought he heard was magnified by one thousand and made him flinch involuntarily. For a solid week now he'd gotten around his fear by going to bed right before the sun set completely, so he'd have at least a little light left to help combat the darkness, but today he'd been distracted by his and Claus' intense game of marbles to notice the time until it was too late. Lucas knew he had no hope of sleeping now.

He thought about waking Claus up, maybe convince him to hold him again just this once, but quickly disposed of the idea. His brother was about as stubborn as a person could get; not even his begging face could move him. Plus the boy would probably just yell at him, and that was something Lucas could live without.

No, what he needed was to get out of bed, if just for a minute. Unnerving as the darkness was, Lucas knew it was powerless while his eyes were open; he was convinced the bad stuff would only happen when everyone was asleep. So, as soundlessly as he could, Lucas slid out of bed and landed on the cold hardwood floor with a soft sound. Looking back to make sure Claus was still snoring the night away, he padded across the room, inwardly exhaling at how cool it was outside the stifling sheets of the bed. Everywhere he looked he saw shadows that made him jump in fright until he remembered what they were; the table and its matching set of chairs, Mommy's sewing wheel, the rack where Daddy hung his hat, the rocking chair sitting next to the fireplace, the bed where Mommy and Daddy slept.

And Lucas nearly jumped out of his own skin when he heard a voice call out to him. "Lucas, honey? Why are you still awake?" Head whirling around, he saw the vague form of what appeared to be his mother rising up a bit from where she lay in bed.

He felt embarrassed to have been caught, but shuffled over to her side anyway. "Sorry, Mommy. I just can't sleep."

Their proximity enabled him to detect the smile on her face even through the darkness. "The dark can be scary sometimes," she said at length, and Lucas wanted badly to tell her that the dark wasn't scary, that he wasn't pathetically frightened of their own house at night. But he couldn't bring himself to lie to his mother. She patted his head. "But you should be scared of it least of all."

Lucas blinked at her. "Why?"

She giggled softly. "Your name is Lucas. Do you know that that means?"

Lucas shook his head. He then worried for a moment that she may not have seen the gesture because of the darkness, but she placed a hand on his chest. "Bringer of light," she breathed, and Lucas' own breath hitched. "We all have a little bit of light in us, but yours shines brightest of all. And even the faintest of light cuts through the darkness." Hinawa kissed her son soothingly on the forehead. "You're destined for great things, dear. Don't let the darkness get in your way."

Lucas, who had been listening to his mother speak with an awestruck expression, slowly nodded and smiled at her. "Okay."

She giggled again. "Good night, dear."

As Lucas wandered back to bed, the things his mother had said kept repeating in his mind. _Bringer of light. Brightest of all. Destined for greatness._ Could it really be true? It seemed off for he who was ordinary and weaker all around compared to his brother and most other boys his age. But his mother had never lied to him before, and he doubted she would start now.

He crawled back under the covers, and by instinct neared Claus for that sense of comfort he still needed. But looking out at the dark house, something felt different. Lucas still felt that eerie feeling, but for once he was convinced that it would do nothing to him, that he was impervious. It couldn't hurt him, he realized; it never had.

"Lucas," he whispered to the darkness, before he closed his eyes to find sleep.

No matter how dark it would become, he'd always have his light.

—**e—n—d—f—i—c—t—i—o—n—**


End file.
